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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548132">Soak up the sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst'>winter_angst</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dribble Drabbles [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Political Animals</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alaska, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Curtain Fic, Homestead, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:54:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of Brock and his little family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dribble Drabbles [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1527689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Soak up the sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasticWinter/gifts">FantasticWinter</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts">Kalika999 (kalika_999)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title: Soak Up The Sun by Sheryl Crow</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brock crouched down low, creeping slowly, belly almost dragging against the substrate. To his left he saw a flash of red. His eyes flickered over but it was already gone and he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it or not. A gentle breeze distrubed the red and orange leaves and Brock scented the air. There was a far off warm musk of a deer but he wasn’t hunting. </p>
<p>He was being hunted. </p>
<p>He flicked his ears around, looking for any sound that meant his hunters were closing in on him. Casting a look around he ran a short distance to the next patch of undergrowth. His fur didn’t exactly blend in well with the autumnal colors, muted gray with a white underbelly he had to be careful to hide. He had to depend on the undergrowth to stay hidden. He peeked his head up in infrequent glances to ensure his hunters hadn’t found him. There was the sound of an autumn crisped leaf being stepped on to his left and he lurched right, sprinting desperately towards the meadow and it’s safety. </p>
<p>But it was a trap and he was blind sided by a ball of copper fur. Brock flopped over on his side in defeat as little teeth tugged at his ear with a growl. Jack stepped from the dappled light of the forest into the open sunlight, his charcoal fur catching the light. Brock went belly up and his tongue lolled out of his mouth to play dead. That alarmed TJ who hopped on his chest with little whimpers. Brock popped his eyes open and any fear in the pup was replaced with excitement as he hopped off Brock and started to run around in circles, eager to play. Jack had laid down, content to sunbathe while Brock romped around in the long grass with TJ until he was tuckered and he went to lay down with Jack. Brock followed suit, resting his head on Jack’s shoulders while he enjoyed the sun warming his fur and the sound of nature surrounded him. The sun peaked and TJ grew restless so they got up and started home. </p>
<p>The log cabin sat in the shadows of quaking aspens and paper birches, a cozy home for the three of them. They shifted and Brock took TJ’s hand to lead him inside while Jack restarted the generator. “Ride?” TJ asked, pointing to the ATV. </p>
<p>“Maybe tomorrow Teej,” Brock unlatched the door and Jenna, their red and white Alaskan Malamute lurched forwards to kiss TJ’s face. </p>
<p>“Jenna!” TJ threw his arms around the massive pregnant dog. </p>
<p>They weren’t too sure who the father was but either way the puppies were claimed by the other homesteaders in the area. Anyone of their dogs could have fathered these pups. Not to mention wild wolves. It had been a misstep for them and they intended to spay her after she whelped. Typically she would have come with them but with her pregnant they were being careful. There was always the chance they would stumble upon wild wolves who always gave them a wide berth but Jenna was incredibly protective of TJ. Everything was a threat in her eyes. It had taken her months to trust the other homesteaders who came to exchange goods during the dark months. </p>
<p>The lights flickered on and Brock dressed TJ and got himself dressed. Then Brock began to tidy up from the hastily departed breakfast and started to make up a very late lunch for them. He sliced beef from a top round roast. When they were dressing and butchering food hunted, or traded for, Brock made sure to get cuts he could use for cold cuts later one. He would then chisel off a chunk to thaw and use for sandwiches for four days at time. Ham, roast beef, sliced chicken. Turkey was seasonal. He slathered them with mayonnaise made with help of Chirp, Bock, Peck, and Feathers, their hens. They were kept safe by the old, ornery Egg (named by TJ, of course) who would crow loudly at any and all threats to which they’d release Jenna to chase off whatever foxy coyote was trying to make a meal out of their chicken coop. </p>
<p>“Roast beef,” Brock explained when he saw TJ poking at the bread.</p>
<p>“Jelly.” </p>
<p>“You can’t eat jelly for every meal.” Brock explained again. “Eat that and you can have jelly toast later.” </p>
<p>TJ looked at the sandwich with a distrusting expression, growled at it, and then took a bit. Brock smiled as he poured him some freshly made blueberry raspberry juice. It was a pain to make but it was TJ’s favorite summer drink so it was worth hours of picking berries and crushing them. Jack came back in, got himself dressed and hastily accepted the sandwich offered. </p>
<p>They didn’t usually go so far but yesterday had been rainy and TJ got fussy when he was cooped up. They all did. Alaska was the best place for werewolves really, little human interactions, plenty of space to roam, no human encroachment. It was perfect. He was glad he had agreed when Jack had suggested they homestead. Living off a generator was a new twist to life but it provided them normal luxuries electricity offered. The WiFi was painfully slow but the longer he stayed here the more he grew used to it. </p>
<p>He was busy anyhow. It wasn’t boring to live off the grid. Tiring, sometimes, but never boring. In fact their morning (and afternoon) venture had put both Jack and TJ behind. Jack would have to attach the trailer to the four wheeler and meet up with Clint to cut firewood. Doing so alone was dangerous. An injury in Alaska could easily become death. Brock had to tend to the garden and get back to pickling. He also needed to milk Milk (again, named by TJ) and prepare for TJ’s birthday cake. Jack was whittling a new toy train for him and Brock had taken the four hour journey on the four wheeler to get a bag of the semi-precious stores that miners traded for small sums of money to the Stark General Store. TJ loved them and kept them in a little box Jack had made him. He was turning eight which Brock had a hard time believing. </p>
<p>Brock chewed on some roast beef while he waited for TJ to work his way through his sandwich and juice. He got out canning jars and the bags of apples he intended to work with first. Apple butter and sauce were first on his list because it always seemed to go first. He intended to make jams tomorrow, honeyberry, raspberry, currant, strawberry and strawberry rhubarb along with canning some veggies and Sunday his day ‘off’. </p>
<p>When TJ was done he looked to Brock for their next adventure. Brock washed his plate, setting into the drying rack. “Ready to go see Milk?”</p>
<p>TJ bobbed his head getting off the chair holding out his hand expectantly. Brock took and he grabbed the milking bucket. He had plenty of milk in the fridge but this would be turned into heavy whipping cream for TJ’s cake. He had a bag of lemons sitting in the fridge to make the cream cheese. Thankfully Steve had a recipe he shared. The cost of canned frosting was horrifying. </p>
<p>“Ready.” </p>
<p>They went to the little barn where Milk was munching on hay. Her calf would go to the Barton homestead and if it was a female she’d be sold for milking and if it was a bull he would live high on the hog for several years, impregnating other cows until he reached the proper age to be slaughtered and they would split the meat. It wasn’t a perfect system but it worked and the cows didn’t suffer the way they would have in the States. TJ stood by the feed box patting Milk and telling her all about their morning while Brock milked her. She produced about a gallon a day. Most of the milk went into the freezer or to their friends. </p>
<p>“We went to the meadow and me an’ papa chaseded daddy and we caught him an’ I almost chewed off his whole ear but I didn’t cos I don’t wanna hurt daddy.” </p>
<p>Milk moo’d. She was a vocal heifer and that delighted TJ. If someone had told Brock five years ago he’d be milking a cow with a son he would have laughed in their face. But time had a funny way of changing things. That and he would have followed Jack anywhere. TJ was just the icing on the cake. Technically he was Jack’s little brother but he had only been two when their parents died so Jack and Brock raised him as their son. TJ had special needs and was the sweetest kid in the entire world. Even if he was feisty when he shifted. He had no want or need to hurt anything. Once he caught a partridge and carried it proudly to Brock, still alive and squawking. After Brock sniffled at it he carried it back to the bush he’d found it in and let it go. It immediately flew to safety and Brock was stumped by him. He didn’t have the prey drive most werewolves did and that was okay. TJ was a gentle soul. </p>
<p>Brock carried the milk inside to be bottled and TJ asked if he could hitch the cart to Jenna who was milling around the yard. Jenna was a working dog who hated to be bored so two winter’s ago Jack had built a little sled and Natasha made leather traces in exchange for dilly beans. Jenna had loved it so much that Brock had to be outside to assure she didn’t take him too far away from the house. Jack built a larger one to make carry goods to be traded to other homesteaders. TJ had been heart broken when there wasn’t enough snow so Jack had, with Steve’s help, designed a wheeled one. He had to order special parts but it was an investment well worth it. </p>
<p>Brock left the door open as he got busy bottling the milk before he focused his attention on the apples. The crock pot was one of the best modern conveniences he had insisted on. He dragged a chair and the compost bin to the door so he could watch Jenna run up and down the dirt road, worn down by ATV tires and foot (and paw) traffic. Sometimes TJ would demand to be hitched up but he didn’t find it very fun that he couldn't pull Jenna. He did like to tote his toys with him when they visited others. Sometimes human interaction was needed so they held bi-monthly get togethers. Brock hadn’t expected to find friends here, much less werewolf friends, but he never stopped being surprised at what this place brought him. </p>
<p>He peeled and cored all eight bags of apples, half for applesauce, the other for apple butter. He dumped half into the crock pot for the butter, adding white and brown sugar along with cinnamon, vanilla extract and pinch of salt. He put the cover on and left it. For the applesauce he pulled out a saucepan, stirring it occasionally for twenty five minutes. He stirred the crock pot occasionally as well, standing in the doorway between stirs to watch Jenna working out her energy while TJ cheered and yelled ‘mush!’. He had seen a full dog sled team in town during a supply run and the musher had been kind and allowed him to ride a few feet. TJ had thanked each and every one of the dogs afterward, and then the musher. He had told him proudly that he had his own sled dog back home and that she was named after the dog from Balto. The musher confided that it was his favorite movie as well. </p>
<p>Brock didn’t want Jenna to run herself too hard, approaching the late stages in her pregnancy.</p>
<p>He mashed up the apples in the saucepan when they were done and started to sterilize the jars. While they boiled he delivered the news that since Jenna was pregnant she needed a break. TJ understood and Jenna walked them back to shed where the sleds were stored. It looked small next to the behemoth of wood shed they had, only half full but come fall it would be teaming and the outside storage for overflow would be stocked as well. Jack wasn’t happy until they had near twice what they needed. TJ came inside to play with his toys while Brock canned. He left out a jar of applesauce and one jar of apple butter from the canning process so it would be on hand. There was never a bad time for apple butter and Jack liked it on his toast, as did TJ. </p>
<p>The sound of the ATV returned and Brock prepared a cup of coffee for Jack. He always came in for a short rest before going back out to stack firewood. Brock would have gone to help but he had to make the heavy whipping cream and cream cheese so he could have the frosting ready for tomorrow. Jack came in and TJ abandoned his toys in favor of throwing his arms around him. “Papa I rode in the cart, didn’t I daddy?” </p>
<p>“You did.” </p>
<p>“But we have to let Jenna rest cos she’s gonna have babies soon. An’ I get to have one for me, right papa?” </p>
<p>“And the others are going to find homes of their very own.” </p>
<p>“Uh-huh!” </p>
<p>He gave Jack one final hug and then went back to playing. Jack kissed Brock hello and accepted the coffee gratefully. “I’m almost done,” Jack said, stretching his back a bit with a pained grimace. “I swear the summer flies by.” </p>
<p>“It is the shortest season.” </p>
<p>Brock didn’t miss the heat of New York. Summers were cool and very tolerable. Jack drank his coffee and commented on the smell in the air. Brock confirmed that the applesauce and butter had been made. Unsurprisingly Jack requested a slice of bread with some. Brock provided it and Jack ate it, drained his coffee, and went back outside. Brock went to the garden, weeding before he started to pick the veggies. TJ wandered out and started to pull snap peas and chew on them while he helped. Soon they had bowls teeming with chard, garlic, peas, potatoes, spinach and turnips to name a few. </p>
<p>“Do we gotta eat all these for dinner?” </p>
<p>“No, I’m going to put them in cans and keep them for winter time.” </p>
<p>TJ nodded in understanding, a snap pea in each hand. He wasn’t going to can them until tomorrow so he set them aside getting out the milk. He poured it into his washed saucepan and turned on low heat. Then he began to squeeze the lemon juice in. The goal was to separate the whey from the milk and the lemon helped with the curdling. He strained it through a cheesecloth, letting it drain for fifteen minutes before using the food processor he had gotten for Christmas to turn into the cream cheese. He had to repeat it twice to ensure he had enough for the frosting. He put it aside and then got busy making the heavy whipping cream. He melted butter in his saucepan and then he used the milk he’d just gotten from Milk, still warm. He stirred it over medium heat and then poured his newly made heavy whipping cream into a jar and hoisted out the Kitchen Aid Mixer. It was a must have for a kitchen out in the middle of Alaska where so much had to be made by hand. He combined the cream cheese and powdered sugar and then added the heavy cream. And just like that he had his cream cheese frosting that would go well over the yellow cake he was going to bake tomorrow morning. </p>
<p>The afternoon was approaching evening so Brock turned his attention towards dinner. He threw together an easy elk stew and started to work on dough for more bread. It felt like he made it every day but toast with breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, a slice of bread with dinner would do that. Jack came in and changed into new clothes before kneeling down to play with TJ. Brock called Jenna in and went around ensuring the animals were in and comfortable for the night before he went in and served dinner. There was something satisfying about homesteading, the way that every day felt like a triumphant. It was a triumphant, it was them beating the odds and living a place man usually didn’t belong. But they weren’t man, not completely, so it was just perfect for them. </p>
<p>Jack caught his eyes and smiled. Brock smiled back. Around here, he looked forward to tomorrow. Around here, he was happy.</p>
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